


The Love You Deserve

by flawedamythyst



Category: Marvel
Genre: Antisemitism, Bigotry & Prejudice, Christmas, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Deaf Clint Barton, Family Issues, Homophobia, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, Unhappy Family Holidays, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: Clint had been in his aunt’s house for less than an hour when it became clear that this hadn’t been his greatest idea.Clint tries to reconnect with his blood family over Christmas. It doesn't go well, but luckily Bucky's there to pick up the pieces.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 77
Kudos: 561
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo





	The Love You Deserve

**Author's Note:**

> Love to Nny and CB.
> 
> Written for my 'Jewish Bucky' square for Winterhawk Bingo.

Clint had been in his aunt’s house for less than an hour when it became clear that this hadn’t been his greatest idea.

“I’m sure Bradley would have been able to get a job if it weren’t for all the immigrants. No one’s ever even given him a chance,” said Linda, who had tried to insist Clint should call her ‘Aunt Linda’, but that definitely wasn’t happening.

Clint’s cousin Bradley, who looked as if he’d smoked enough weed to completely blitz any brain cells he might once have had, stared blankly at Clint.

“He wanted to join the police, but there was all that nasty business after he left High School and well, boys will be boys. I don’t think they should hold that sort of thing against you for the rest of your life. Besides, everyone knew those weren’t his drugs, he’s always been a good boy. That nasty friend of his was to blame, he took advantage of your good nature, didn’t he, Bradley?”

Bradley grunted.

“If only there was some way to get that off his record,” said Linda. She gave Clint a wide-eyed look as if she'd just thought of something, but Clint didn't believe it for a second. “I don’t suppose you know anyone who could help? I’m sure if an Avenger spoke to the police, they’d happily waive that.”

“It doesn’t really work like that,” said Clint carefully.

“Oh, I’m sure it does,” said Linda. “Captain America or someone. Or Tony Stark always seems to avoid these things. It would mean such a lot if Bradley were just able to move on from all that trouble and get a job. I mean, we love having him here, of course, but it would be nice for him to get his own place.”

From the look on her husband Hank’s face, he did not love having his adult son still living at home, but he didn’t say anything. Clint wasn’t sure when he’d have had the chance. Linda seemed to do all the speaking for everyone in the room.

When she’d first got in contact with Clint a couple of months ago, he’d almost forgotten that he’d ever had an aunt. She’d married Hank and moved to Ohio before Clint had been born and he could only remember seeing her once, at his grandmother’s funeral when he’d been 4 or 5. She hadn’t come to his mother's funeral which, thinking about it, should probably have been a sign that this was a bad idea.

It had been so long since he’d had any family though, let alone any that wanted to spend Christmas with him. He hadn’t stopped to wonder why she was getting in contact now rather than years ago like, say, after his parents had died and he and Barney had been left alone with no one to take them in.

“Are you sure that’s nothing you can do?” asked Linda, but Clint was saved from answering by his phone beeping.

He managed a smile as he pulled it out of his pocket. “Sorry, could be important,” he lied, because that wasn’t the noise his phone made when there was an Avengers emergency.

It was a text from Bucky.

_Steve and Sam decided we’d all watch some sappy Christmas movie, but they’ve spent the whole thing making out. I want to die._

_I can beat that,_ Clint sent back. _My aunt has a ‘Make America Great Again’ sign on her front lawn._

He tucked the phone away again and gave Linda a careful smile. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh no,” she said. “Of course we understand. You must have so many important people to talk to.”

Clint just hummed with agreement, then finished the rest of his coffee. “It was a long drive,” he said. “I wonder if you’d mind me taking a shower?”

“Of course not,” she said. “We were rather surprised you didn’t fly over in one of those little jets, weren’t we Hank? You know, you could have landed it in the park.”

“We’re not allowed to use those for personal trips,” said Clint, standing up. That was only partially a lie because, okay, maybe taking Bucky to Vegas hadn’t been strictly necessary, but he’d needed to relax and get away from Steve and Sam’s epic romance before he’d snapped and started killing people. Preventing that was an important Avengers’ mission. “Is it just upstairs?”

“Yes, Bradley will show you to your room, won't you Bradley?”

Bradley blinked at the mention of his name, then slowly turned his head to stare at his mother.

“Go on, Bradley,” she said encouragingly. “You can tell Clint about how much you want to join the police on the way.”

Bradley lumbered to his feet and Clint grabbed the bag he’d brought with him and followed him upstairs.

“Do you want to join the police?" he asked Bradley once they were out of earshot. 

Bradley paused at the doorway of what must have been the spare room. He considered it for a long moment. “No,” he decided eventually.

“Okay,” said Clint. “What do you want to do?”

Bradley came up with an answer to that far quicker. “Professional poker player,” he said. He perked up and looked at Clint. “Mom said you were rich, could you lend me some money for a few tournaments? Just until I started winning the big prizes.”

“I’m not that kind of rich, I’m afraid,” said Clint, and headed inside the room before Bradley could come up with a response to that.

He wished he had come in a quinjet, because he’d have been able to jump in it and head home already if he had.

Except these were the only family he had, and they’d invited him for the whole of Christmas when they hadn’t had to, and it would be rude to leave this quickly. And that was what family was about, wasn’t it? Putting aside your differences in favour of spending time together? Clint didn’t really know but he felt like he’d seen enough movies about it.

His phone beeped again and he pulled it out.

_Holy shit._

_Please tell me that means you’re coming back here to rescue me from Christmas as a third wheel._

Clint snorted.

 _I thought you said you didn’t care what happened at Christmas because it wasn’t your holiday?_ he sent back, then opened his bag and dug out his things to go take a shower.

Linda and Hank’s house was big enough for Clint’s room to have an en-suite, which was a relief. He wasn’t really keen on showering anywhere Bradley might have been naked. He couldn’t help noticing that there would have been plenty of room in the house for two newly orphaned and traumatised kids, even with Linda’s other kids still living there.

When he got out of the bathroom there were another two texts and a missed call on his phone.

_I care when I'm being railroaded into being a third wheel because Steve's worried about me getting sad if I'm allowed to be alone._

_You are coming back, right? Why would you stay?_

Clint smiled to himself, glanced at the time and decided he didn't need to rush downstairs just yet, and hit the button to call Bucky back.

"I'm going to go buy an ungodly amount of eggnog for us," said Bucky when he answered, without waiting for Clint to say anything. 

"I'm not coming back," said Clint, and there was a pause, then a loud sigh.

"The sign was a mistake and they're not right-wing nutjobs?" suggested Bucky without much hope.

"Apparently the reason my stoner cousin doesn't have a job is the immigrants," said Clint.

Bucky groaned. "Don't do this to yourself, Clint, come back and drink eggnog with me."

God, Clint really wanted to. He hadn't expected to become such good friends with Bucky when he'd first joined the team but it had only taken a couple of missions for them to fall into easy banter, and from there it hadn't seemed weird to hang out together, especially when Steve was spending increasing amounts of time with Sam.

And then there was the whole thing where they’d fucked a couple of times, but Clint hadn’t worked out what was going on with that yet, so he mostly tried not to think about it.

Tried being the operative word, because damn, fucking Bucky Barnes was pretty damn memorable. Clint found himself thinking about it at all kinds of inopportune moments, then got stuck on trying to work out if it had been just a couple of one-offs, if it meant they were now fuck-buddies and he was going to get to hear the bitten out noises Bucky made as he came again, or if was the start of something more. Something maybe with emotions in it.

That last one seemed the least likely, but Clint couldn’t help hoping sometimes.

"C'mon, Clint," coaxed Bucky. "You'd be rescuing me."

Clint sighed. "They're the only family I've got who don't want to kill me," he said, "and they were kind enough to invite me. I owe it to them to spend longer than an hour here before judging them. Besides, there's another two cousins coming tomorrow, I want to at least meet them."

Bucky let out a grumpy sigh. "Fine," he muttered. "But keep me updated, yeah? I could do with being distracted from the love fest here."

“Sure thing,” said Clint, then hung up, took a deep breath and went down for dinner.

****

The best thing that could be said about dinner was that the food was good. Clint interrupted another attempt by Linda to get him to use whatever influence she thought a guy with a bow and arrow had to compliment it.

“This lasagne is great, Linda.”

Linda looked a bit surprised by that, as if she weren’t used to having her cooking complimented. From the way Hank and Bradley just had their heads down as they shovelled it in, Clint thought maybe she wasn’t.

“Thank you,” she said. “It was my mother’s recipe. Your grandmother.”

Clint looked back at it and realised the reason it had tasted faintly familiar to him. “My mom used to make it like this,” he said, and had to take a breath to press back emotion for a second, because knowing people were your family was one thing, but coming across that kind of tiny, unexpected connection was quite another.

Linda looked uncomfortable. “Yes,” she said, “we learnt to cook together.”

There was an awkward pause as Linda looked down at her own food, and she looked sad for a moment. “It was terrible what happened,” she said. “That car accident… I was so sorry to hear about it.”

Clint nodded. “You weren’t at the funeral,” he said, as carefully as he could.

“No,” said Linda. “I was pregnant with Bradley, and Jake and Frannie were still so young. It was just a bit too much.”

“It’s a damn long way to go, Iowa,” said Hank, gruffly, as if Clint hadn’t driven pretty much the same distance to get to them from New York.

He just nodded, thinking about how few people there had been at the funeral. Him and Barney, the neighbours, a couple of guys from his father’s favourite bar. No one really who had been there just for his mom.

There was an awkward pause, filled only with the sound of Bradley loading his plate up with more from the serving bowls.

“We couldn’t have taken you and Barney in,” said Linda, and Clint hated that he’d been trained to hear when someone was lying. “Two children already, and a third on the way, and we would have been strangers. We thought it was better for you to stay in a town where you knew people, where you could stay at the same school.”

Clint nodded, but couldn’t help adding. “The foster home they sent us to was in Cedar Rapids.”

There was another awkward pause and Clint felt bad. That had been decades ago, after all. “Have you got any old photos of my mom when you were growing up?” he asked. “Me and Barney didn’t manage to keep hold of our family photos.”

“Of course,” said Linda, clearly grateful for a new topic. “I’ll get out the old albums. Edith sent us a couple of photos when you and your brother were born, I think I still have those.”

“That would be great,” said Clint, finding a smile for her because that was what he’d come here looking for, those kinds of connections that other people had, going back to their childhoods and beyond.

****

Looking at photos of his mom as a child and a teenager was more emotional than Clint would have figured for. She looked so happy, so carefree, nothing like the faded, tired woman he remembered.

“Ah, here’s you as a baby,” said Linda, passing an album over to him.

There were two photos, one of him lying in someone’s arms, looking squashed and red-faced, and then a family snap of his mom holding him while lying in a hospital bed, his dad sat awkwardly on the edge of it with Barney in his lap, scowling at the camera with his fingers in his mouth. Clint felt his chest constrict with so many emotions that he couldn’t sort through them all.

He stared for a long while, taking in all the little details, then cleared his throat. “You mind if I take photos?” he asked, pulling his phone out.

“Of course not,” said Linda.

Clint took a couple of careful photos of the pictures, then couldn’t stop himself sending the one of just him to Bucky.

 _Proof there was a time when I wasn’t the greatest marksman,_ he sent.

“Thanks,” he said to Linda, who managed a smile.

“Of course,” she said. “I’m sorry that we haven’t been close, but I’m glad you’re here now. You have your grandmother’s eyes, you know. Jake’s are the same.”

Clint flicked back a couple of pages to a photo of his grandmother, but he didn’t really see it. He took a couple of photos of those pictures as well, of his mother at around 16, standing under a tree with a smile on her face.

“That’s a nice phone,” Linda commented. “I’ve not seen one like it before.”

“It’s the latest Starkphone,” said Clint. “I don’t think Tony’s released them yet.”

“Oh, of course, I suppose you must get all the latest things from him,” she said. “How lovely.”

Clint mostly tried to avoid the hand outs Tony liked to shower on everyone, because they made him feel awkward. The phones were useful though, all synced up on the Avengers alert system and with more security systems than the Pentagon. Besides, he’d figured out a couple of years ago that Tony equated himself with his gadgets enough that if you rejected too many, he thought you were rejecting him as well, so now Clint took his phones and he let him fix up his hearing aids, and that seemed to keep him happy so he could skip out on the rest.

“You know, Bradley finds it very hard to afford new things when he can’t get a job, and I think it makes it more difficult for him,” added Linda. “I’m sure he’d find it easier to job hunt if he had a new phone, or a better computer.”

Clint managed a wan smile at her. “I can’t offer any advice, I’m afraid I don’t know that much about job hunting,” he said, deliberately missing her point. 

His phone beeped and he glanced down to see a text from Bucky.

_Seems like you’ve always been a cutie, though._

What the hell was he meant to do with that?

He tucked the phone away without replying, then offered Linda another smile. “I think I’m going to head to bed,” he said. “Long day today.”

“Of course,” she said. “We’ll be leaving for church at 10.30, but I’ll wake you up in plenty of time to have breakfast before then.” Ah crap, Clint hadn’t factored in having to go to church. He opened his mouth to say he’d stay home, but Linda kept talking without giving him an opening. “Jake and Frannie are coming tomorrow, and Frannie’s family as well, of course, so we’ll have a houseful. It’ll be lovely to have all the family together at least.”

“All the family except Barney,” said Clint, thinking that he’d have to just break the bad news about his atheism tomorrow. She gave him a disconcerted look, as if she hadn’t thought about Barney being family. Probably because Barney wasn’t kinda famous and friends with billionaires, Clint thought to himself, then wondered if he was being uncharitable. It wasn’t as if he’d have wanted Barney around, even if he’d known how to contact him with an invitation. 

“Oh, of course. Except Barney,” she said. “Well, there’ll be quite enough people here anyway. It’s lovely having the children here. Frannie has three, you know. It’s a shame they don’t have any cousins, but Jake’s ex-wife didn’t want them. She was a bit, you know,” she made a face that made it clear Clint should know, “ _independent_. She had some funny ideas about these things.”

“Did she?” asked Clint.

“Oh yes,” said Linda, clearly warming up to a favourite topic. “She worked for a charity you know, sending money over to Africa as if there weren’t plenty of Americans that could use it here. I asked once if they made sure they weren’t sending it to Islamic terrorists and she just laughed at me. As if we don’t know that all those kinds of people hate America.”

Clint couldn’t hold in a wince. Jake’s ex-wife sounded like the first person in the family that he could have got along with. It was a shame she’d washed her hands of them already. “Most people over there just want to live their lives and raise their families, and try and make a better life for their kids, same as people here,” he said, which earned him a frown from Linda.

“I suppose,” she said, not sounding sure about it at all.

Clint gave up, because he was too tired for this bullshit. He wished her good night and escaped to his room.

Once there, he looked back at the message from Bucky, wondering how the hell he should be taking it. Was it sarcastic? He hadn’t been that cute as a baby, so that might make sense.

That wasn’t how he wanted Bucky to have meant it, though.

As he was staring at it, another message came through.

_Sam and Steve went to bed early because ‘they were tired’ and I can hear them fucking through the wall._

Clint found a smile for that, pushing aside all his conflict over the rest of it. _So sad I’m not there to just take out my hearing aids and give you a smug look,_ he said.

Bucky sent a selfie in return, of him giving the camera a deeply unimpressed look. His hair was caught up in a half bun and he was wearing a pyjama shirt that had a neck loose enough to leave his collarbones on display. Clint took a long few moments to really appreciate that.

Fuck it, thre was no sense in driving himself nuts trying to work out what was going through Bucky’s mind.

 _Sad you’re not here period,_ was Bucky’s next message, rapidly followed by two more.

_Steve wouldn’t let us watch Die Hard, he said it wasn’t festive enough. You’da been on my side._

_Hope things are going better there, anyway, that they’re turning out to be good people._

Clint stared at the last one, trying to work out how to fit all his complicated emotions into a text, then gave up and just hit call instead.

“Tell me you’ve changed your mind about coming back,” said Bucky as he answered. “Or are you just mad about the _Die Hard_ thing?”

“I am so mad about the _Die Hard_ thing,” said Clint. “You can tell Steve that as well. Of course it’s festive, it’s set at Christmas! It’s about family! He’s a complete idiot.”

Bucky snorted. “Exactly what I said,” he said. “No dice, Steve dug his heels in. We had to watch _It’s A Wonderful Life_ instead.”

“Jesus,” said Clint, appalled. “Your best friend, man.”

“Yeah, well, whatcha gonna do?” said Bucky. “I mean, your best friend took a deep cover mission with Russian people traffickers just to avoid the festive season, so I don’t know that you can judge much.”

“Yeah, true,” said Clint, sighing. He could have done with Natasha being around where he could contact her. She was the one who had been around the last time Barney had surfaced after all, she knew exactly how fucked up Clint was about his family.

There was a pause, then Bucky asked, quietly, “How was dinner?”

Clint let out a sigh. “She keeps trying to get stuff out of me. Influence or money or whatever she thinks I’ve got that she can take advantage of. I think I get how Tony feels most of the time now.”

“Dude,” said Bucky, but didn’t add the sentence Clint could hear in his tone. _Just come back here._

“We looked at a whole bunch of family photos,” said Clint. “It’s weird remembering that there are people I have those connections with. And tomorrow is Christmas and her other two kids, and their kids, are coming. I want to see what they’re like.”

“Okay,” said Bucky. “I get it, man. I do. I just wish they were better people.”

“Yeah, well. Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess,” said Clint. He lay down on the bed, sprawling out and staring up at the ceiling. It had weird plaster swirls on it that he could tell would drive him nuts if he were spending more than a couple of days here. “Tell me more annoying shit that Sam and Steve have been doing.”

“Let me tell you about the paper chains incident,” said Bucky, and Clint smiled to himself, settling in to just let his voice wash over him and remind him that there were good people who cared about him, even if none of them were here.

****

He didn’t let the call with Bucky last as long as he wanted it to, because he had no idea how thick the walls were and he didn’t want to be the guy who said he needed to go to bed then stayed up late chatting to his...friend? Fuck buddy?

Crush?

Yeah, no. Friend worked well enough, until Bucky wanted to make how he felt about this whole thing clear.

“Okay, I’m going to go to bed. Got to get up early and make excuses not to go to church tomorrow,” said Clint.

Bucky snorted. “Good luck with that,” he said. “Okay well, I’m sure I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“God, I hope so,” said Clint. “I’m gonna need to grab my chances to talk to someone sane to balance out everything here.”

Bucky laughed. “You know it’s bad when I’m your choice for ‘sane’,” he said. “Good night, then, and Merry Christmas Eve.”

“Merry Just A Regular Tuesday Because Hannukah Was Two Weeks Ago,” said Clint and fuck, he didn’t want to hang up the phone. He didn’t want to be in this house without a friendly voice in his ear.

This was ridiculous, this was his family. “Good night,” he added, then made himself hang up.

He clutched the phone for a moment, considering how easy it would be to shimmy out the window, get back in his car, and be in New York by morning.

No, he was going to see this through. Jake and Frannie might be worth getting to know, after all.

****

The next morning didn't start well because Clint was late down to breakfast.

"I did knock on your door a couple of times," said Linda.

"Yeah, I sleep with my aids out," said Clint, pouring himself some coffee from the pot and hoping it wasn't too cold. Fuck it, he'd drink it whatever. "I wouldn't have heard that, sorry." Linda had laid out a breakfast spread of waffles with all kinds of toppings, but Clint couldn’t help thinking about the bagels Bucky and the others would be having right now. Christmas morning bagels were an Avengers tradition dating from the very first year the team had been together.

Linda blinked at him. "Aids?" she repeated blankly.

Bradley's head jerked up from his single-minded focus on his waffle. "You've got aids?" He asked with a tone of horror and macabre glee.

Clint gestured at his ears. "Hearing aids," he clarified. "I'm hard of hearing, didn't you know?"

"Oh!" Linda said and stared at his ears. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Don't be," said Clint. "It wasn't you that deafened me, it was my asshole father."

"We don't use that language in this house," said Hank, which was the first thing he'd said all morning. 

Clint shrugged. “I’ll call the guy that beat my hearing out of me whatever I like.”

"Oh, I had no idea!" said Linda, and she was talking at twice the volume she had been. “Your father! Well, I always said Edith could have done better.”

Clint managed a rueful smile. “That’s a bit of an understatement, but yeah.”

"I'm so sorry!" She said, and made a vague gesture that meant nothing but was probably meant to convey an apology. Clint resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands.

"Will you be okay with going to church?" she asked, and made a little cross with her fingers, like she was fending off a vampire.

"I can hear just fine with my aids in," said Clint, hoping to end all the ridiculous gestures before it got really irritating. "And I won't be going to church anyway."

"What?" she asked blankly, surprised into talking at a normal volume again, then repeated it at twice the volume. "What?!"

"I'm an atheist," Clint said.

Bradley sucked in a breath like Clint had said he was a demon, eyes widening. 

"Son, in this house, we all go to church," said Hank. Clint wasn’t sure who he thought he was calling ‘son’.

"It's Christmas Day," added Linda. "Of course you'll come to church. I'll ask the vicar if you can sit at the front to make it easier for you."

She was still talking too loudly but Clint felt like he needed to pick his battles.

“I’m sorry, but I-” he started, and was interrupted by the doorbell.

Linda frowned. “Who would come over this early on Christmas Day?” She bustled away and Clint let himself relax and concentrate on breakfast for a moment, hoping the church argument was over. It almost certainly wasn’t, but a guy could hope, right?

When Linda appeared back in the kitchen, she was frowning at Clint. “It’s for you,” she said, jabbing a finger at Clint, then pointing at the front door.

Ah crap, SHIELD weren’t calling him in, were they? His alert hadn’t gone off, but that didn’t mean much. Sometimes Fury liked to spring these things on him without giving him a chance to escape before being pulled into some super-spy bullshit.

When he got to the front door though, it wasn’t a SHIELD agent with a mission brief and a harried expression waiting for him. It was Bucky.

He was in his motorcycle leathers and had his helmet in one hand, his hair was flattened and greasy, and his smile was a little nervous around the edges, as if he wasn’t confident of his welcome. He looked completely out of place against Linda and Hank’s perfectly manicured front lawn and the pastel shades and tiny china ornaments of the front hall.

“Holy shit,” said Clint, putting a hand on the thick leather covering Bucky’s chest to feel how solid and real he was because it seemed almost unbelievable that he was there. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Sounded like you could use a friendly face,” said Bucky, “so I brought you bagels.”

He held out a paper bag and Clint just stared at it for a moment, taking in the logo of his favourite bagel bakery, and felt a smile grow across his face. “Fuck, how did you know I’d be craving them?”

“I didn’t think you’d be getting proper New York bagels out here.”

“Damn straight,” said Clint, taking the bag and trying not to clutch it to his chest too obviously. “Fuck, how the hell did you get here? You can’t have biked the whole way.”

“Why not?” asked Bucky. “The roads were all pretty quiet overnight.”

Clint just stared at him. “That musta taken all night,” he said, because even with empty roads it was at least an eight hour drive.

Bucky shrugged. “It was that or wake up to Steve and Sam’s festive cheer this morning. There’s been so much tinsel, Clint, I had to get away.”

Clint had no idea how to react to that. Even with Bucky’s super-soldier stamina, biking eight hours in the middle of the night would have been exhausting, and he’d done it just to bring Clint bagels?

Shit, this thing between them definitely wasn’t just fuckbuddies, was it?

“Jesus, it’s so good to see you,” he said, and Bucky’s smile spread wider.

“I knew the bagels would win you over,” he said.

“Clint, dear, will your friend be staying long?” asked Linda, coming back into the hall and then hovering awkwardly, clearly not sure what to be doing with the rumpled biker on her doorstep. “We’ll need to leave for church in a few minutes, if he’d like to come?”

Bucky gave her his most charming 1940’s hearthrob smile. “That’s very kind of you, ma’am, but I’m Jewish.”

“Oh,” she said weakly, her eyes widening even more.

“I won’t stick around,” said Bucky, looking back at Clint. “I know you want to spend time with your family. I just wanted to say hi and give you those. Oh, and this,” he unslung a backpack from his shoulder, digging around in it until he’d pulled out a purple sweater. “I know you like having it with you.”

It was Clint’s favourite sweater, the one so old that the purple had faded towards pink, he’d had to tie knots in the end of the strings because the aglets had come off, and the sleeves were all stretched out from being either pulled down over his hands or shoved up to his elbows. These days, he kept it for the bad days, the days when he was feeling beaten down by the world and was 100% done with other people and just wanted to curl up and mope.

It was exactly what he needed while navigating the emotional minefield that Linda and her family were becoming.

Affection burst out in his chest as he took it from Bucky, smiling helplessly and probably rather foolishly at him.

“Thanks,” he said, then made a very rapid decision as he pulled it on. He looked back at Linda, who was frowning at the sweater as if wondering if it were a health hazard. “Hey, Linda, this is Bucky Barnes, he’s an Avenger as well. Is it okay if he comes in for breakfast? He’s had a long drive.”

“Oh,” said Linda. “Well, of course, but we are about to go out.”

“That’s fine,” said Clint, “I was staying here anyway. We’ll have breakfast while you’re out and clear it all up after.” He held the door open and gestured Bucky in while she was still staring, clearly trying to work out how to bring up the church thing again.

“Thank you,” said Bucky as he came in, unzipping his jacket. “That’s very kind of you, ma’am.”

Underneath the jacket he was wearing a knitted sweater with a large menorah on it. Linda’s eyes fixed on it.

“And if there’s anything we can do to start the preparations for lunch, please let me know,” added Clint. “I’m not a great cook, but I can peel potatoes or chop vegetables.”

“Oh no,” she said, “no, that will be fine. I need- Hank? Hank!” She disappeared back towards the kitchen and Clint turned to grin at Bucky. “I think you’re fucking with her status quo.”

Bucky shrugged. “From what you said, it seems like it needs to be fucked with.” He hesitated and then added. “I can go if you want, I didn’t intend to gatecrash your Christmas. I can get a motel room and then we can travel back together tomorrow.”

Clint snorted. “No way, you’re not coming all this way and disappearing immediately.” He hesitated then let himself reach out for Bucky again, putting his hand on his shoulder. “It’s really great to see you.”

Bucky grinned back. “I’m glad,” he said, and the look on his face was enough to make Clint think about kissing him.

Of course, Linda interrupted them before that could happen.

“We’re leaving now,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want to come, Clint? I know your mother would have wanted you to have God in your life.”

“I haven’t been to church since her funeral,” said Clint. “Doesn’t seem much point in starting now, when I don’t believe.”

Linda pursed her lips but didn't say anything else as she, Hank and Bradley put their coats on and left.

Clint let out a sigh of relief, feeling all the tension sag out of his body. “Fucking hell,” he muttered.

Bucky put his arm around him as if to hold him up, then leaned in and pressed a tentative kiss to his cheek. “C’mon, doll, you promised me breakfast.”

“Yeah,” agreed Clint, feeling dazed by the kiss. “And I’ve got bagels to eat.”

****

Even being in someone else’s house and all too aware that at some point Linda, Hank and all their children and grandchildren would be coming back from church and filling the place up, it was the best breakfast Clint could remember in a while. He ate his bagels while Bucky ate his way through the remains of the waffles.

“How did Steve react when you told him you were coming out here?” he asked.

Bucky grinned. “No idea,” he said. “I wasn’t going to disturb him and Sam, so I left them a note.”

Clint snorted. “He’s gonna be pissed.”

“Nah,” said Bucky, shrugging. “I reckon he’ll get it. He’s done some crazy shit because of Sam, after all.”

Clint felt himself freeze up, because Steve and Sam were boyfriends, that was different to him and Bucky, wasn’t it? Or was it? God, what if it wasn’t? “Bucky,” he said softly.

Bucky looked up at him, looking caught out. “And his friends as well,” he said in a rush. “Steve’s done crazy shit for all you guys.”

Clint hesitated, wetting his lips as they dried up with nerves. Fuck it, it seemed like they were both dancing around this, it was past time to lay some cards on the table. “It doesn’t feel like you and me are just friends, though.”

Bucky went very still, looking up at Clint with all the trepidation Clint was feeling. “No,” he said cautiously. “Seems like maybe there’s more than that going on.”

Clint grinned at him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “This is a really great Christmas.”

“I’m glad,” said Bucky, softly, and for a moment they were just staring at each other and Clint could feel all his feelings beaming out of his face.

Bucky cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his waffles. “What time are they gonna be back from church?”

“No idea,” said Clint. “How long is a service?”

Bucky shrugged at him. “Temple always felt like it was going on forever when I was a kid,” he said. “No idea how that relates to a Christian service.”

Clint pulled out his phone and tried googling it, but the answers varied hugely so he just gave up and shrugged. “Guess they could be back any time.”

Which meant dragging Bucky upstairs for a quickie was probably a terrible idea. That didn’t stop Clint from being severely tempted to do it anyway, but there was something kinda nice about clearing away breakfast and washing up with him. Something a bit domestic in a way Clint didn’t know that he’d really had with someone he was interested in before.

It helped that Bucky started pressing kisses to Clint’s lips any time they came close, brief pecks when they met in the doorway to the kitchen as they carried the dirty plates through, taking him in his arms and going for something longer and slower as Clint waited for the sink to fill with hot water, affectionate nudges of his hips against Clint’s as he dried up next to him. Looking through all the cupboards to find the right places to put everything away turned into a bit of a game, both of them claiming a kiss as a reward when they found the right cupboard.

Clint draped his arms around Bucky when they were finished, pulling him in for another kiss. 

“I like this,” he said, and Bucky grinned back at him. 

“Yeah, me too,” he said, and returned the kiss. “Maybe next time we could do it back home rather than in your right wing nutjob aunt’s house?”

Clint snorted. “I don’t know, you don’t think it’s adding a certain romantic something to know there’s a Trump 2020 mug in the room with us?” That had been a nasty shock when he’d opened that cupboard.

Bucky shuddered. “Yeah, not so much, not unless you mean knowing how pissed he’d be about two dudes making out near any of his shit.”

“I’m not saying that pissing Trump off is the only reason I’d want to make out with you, but it’s pretty high up the list,” said Clint.

“I can live with that,” said Bucky, leaning in for another kiss.

There was the noise of the door opening in the hall, then an eruption of sound as countless people arrived in the house. Clint let out a sigh and curled in to rest his forehead against Bucky’s. “Ready for this?”

“Oh yeah,” said Bucky, grinning. “Bring it.”

God, Clint just wanted to get him alone somewhere to see exactly where this was all going, but instead he straightened up and stepped away from him, heading out to the front door to greet his family.

****

Jake turned out to look a bit like Barney, which Clint hadn’t really been expecting. He supposed the red hair had to have come from somewhere, but it was still a bit disconcerting to catch the shadow of his brother in a man who thought Christmas Day required a shirt and tie. And not even a novelty tie, it was just plain blue. What was the point of that at Christmas?

Frannie, on the other hand, looked frazzled and barely put together, as if she hadn’t stopped to consider what clothes she was putting on for years. All three of her children were over-excited and had clearly found church a trial to sit through and so were now making the most of being able to run about yelling. They charged through the sitting room that Linda waved everyone into and into the next room, where Clint could see a handful of toys laid out for them. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said to Clint in a tone that said she spent most of her time apologising, “I think there was a bit too much candy at breakfast.”

“No, it’s mine!” shouted one of them from the other room, then there was a crash. She winced.

“For god’s sake,” muttered her husband, Warren, but he didn’t make any move to restrain his children. Instead, he just frowned at Frannie until she scurried off to deal with whatever was going on.

“Let me just make some coffee for everyone, and we’ll do presents,” said Linda, over the sound of screams. She turned her fixed grin on Bucky, who had hung back while the introductions had been going on. “Will you be staying?” she asked in a brittle tone. “Or do you need to be hurrying off somewhere?”

“I’ve got nowhere to be,” said Bucky, “but of course I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family.” Clint had to lipread the second half, because it was drowned out by a loud yell of outrage from the other room, followed by a long, shrill wail of misery.

“Oh, not at all,” said Linda, clearly not meaning it. “It was a long drive though, you must be tired.” She was starting to edge Bucky towards the door and Clint realised just how much he didn’t want to lose the one familiar face here.

He caught Bucky’s eye and raised an eyebrow in question. Bucky hesitated, sending a tiny shrug back at him. Clint wasn’t sure what that meant, so he took advantage of the fact that he was probably the only deaf person anyone in the room had met and signed, _I get if you want to escape, I really do, and no obligation, but I’d like it if you stayed._

Bucky glanced around, probably taking in the frowns of confusion and the almost offended look on Jake’s face at being excluded from the conversation, and signed back, _Whatever you want, sweetheart. I’ve got nowhere to be, and you know I’m always happy to be your back up._

Clint grinned at him, then turned to Linda. “Would it be too much trouble if Bucky stayed?” he asked. “I don’t really want to send him off to spend the day alone in a motel room after he came so far.” He pulled in steadying breath, then let himself take a risk. “After all, he’s pretty much my family as well,” he added, reaching out to take Bucky’s hand.

There was a deafening silence, other than the children’s shouts and Frannie’s exhausted voice in the other room, trying to impose some kind of order.

“Oh,” said Linda, very faintly. “Oh, I had no idea.”

Bucky’s hand tightened around Clint’s and he moved a step closer to him. “We’re not really keen on putting our private lives in the papers,” he said and thank fuck, he was backing Clint’s play on this one.

“No wonder you wouldn’t come to church,” said Bradley into the silence.

“No,” said Hank with a note of authority, stepping forward. “I think that’s quite enough. We’re a good Christian family and we’ve been trying to welcome you in, but I won’t see our values mocked like this.”

Clint blinked at him. “Sorry?” he asked, thinking he must have misheard. “What’s being mocked?”

“My wife has been nothing but welcoming to you, and you repay her by bringing this under our roof,” said Hank, gesturing at Bucky. “Wearing that jumper on the Lord’s day, when we all know what those people did to him.”

“What the fuck?” asked Clint, too surprised to react more coherently than that.

“And now you’re flaunting your alternative lifestyle as if there aren’t children here,” carried on Hank. “Do you have no sense of appropriateness?”

“Hank,” said Linda, weakly, but he didn’t let her finish.

“No, Linda, I’ve let this go on entirely too long. I won’t have our Christmas ruined by a godless degenerate.”

“What the fuck did you just call us?” asked Bucky, stepping forward and doing the thing with his shoulders that made you realise just how dangerous he was even when he was in a novelty holiday jumper.

Clint looked around at the miserable disapproval on Linda’s face, the disgust on Hank’s, and the scowls that Jake and Warren were wearing and gave up. He should have known that family was never going to work out for him. Not blood family, anyway.

“Okay, fuck you all,” he said. “And fuck your ‘good Christian values’ that left two orphan kids alone to be trucked around foster homes without anyone looking out for them. I may not know much about God, or Jesus, or any of that shit, but I reckon I’ve heard enough about loving your neighbour to know hypocrisy when I see it.”

He tugged Bucky’s hand, pulling him back from the fierce glare he was aiming at Hank. “C’mon, man, let’s go find a motel room and spend the day having sex.”

“Oh!” said Linda weakly, but Clint didn’t wait for more than that. He swept out of the sitting room with Bucky’s hand still tightly gripped in his and thundered up the stairs, feeling furious as it sunk in just how much bullshit this whole thing was.

He stormed into the room he was staying in with Bucky on his heels, then grabbed his bag from under the bed and started throwing the few things that he’d unpacked into it with sharp, furious movements.

“I can’t believe you share DNA with these people,” said Bucky, heading into the bathroom to grab his stuff from there.

“Yeah,” said Clint shortly. “Guess it’s not just the Barton side of my family that carries the asshole genes.”

He unplugged his hearing aids charger with a yank and chucked it into his bag without caring if it broke. Fuck. Fuck, he’d wanted this to work out, wanted to have a family he could spend holidays with so badly, why the hell did this shit always happen to him?

“Hey,” said Bucky softly, taking hold of Clint’s shoulders and turning him around so he could pull him into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re so much better than these fuckers, and there are plenty of better people who love you. Steve and Sam are gonna be glad to see you when we get back, and Natasha when she’s back from her mission, and you know Tony’s already planning a New Year’s party for us all. You don’t need any other family.”

Clint took a deep breath, pressing his face against Bucky’s shoulder. “I know,” he said tightly. “Fuck. Thanks so much for coming out here, this would have sucked so much to deal with on my own.”

“Of course,” said Bucky, stroking a hand over Clint’s back. “Whatever you need.” He paused and then added, in a low voice, “These guys may not love you like you deserve, but I do.”

Clint felt his breath catch in his throat and pulled back to look at Bucky’s face. He looked resolute, but his jaw was clenched as if he weren’t sure that his words were going to be welcome, which was bullshit.

“I love you too,” said Clint, and leaned in to kiss him.

They made out for longer than was wise when they were still in a house full of people who wanted them gone. When they finally pulled apart, Clint took a deep breath and smiled at Bucky. “C’mon, I meant it about spending the day having sex.”

Bucky grinned. “Sounds perfect.”

Clint turned to zip up his bag and slung it over his shoulder and they left the room.

Bradley was waiting on the landing for them, hovering awkwardly, and Clint braced himself, wondering what the hell could be coming next.

“Hey,” said Bradley, and glanced nervously at the stairs. “I, uh. I just wanted to say that it was cool meeting you and, uh,” he glanced back at the stairs and then lowered his voice a bit further, “I don’t agree with what Dad was saying.”

“Oh,” said Clint, completely taken aback. “Uh, thanks.”

Bradley shrugged. “It’s okay. And anyway, all this,” he waved his hand vaguely at both Clint and Bucky, “is gonna be all they talk about all day, which will be a break from harping at me about being, you know. A jobless bum. So thanks for that.”

Clint snorted. “No problem,” he said.

Bradley gave him an awkward nod then stuffed his hands in his pockets, stepping back so Clint and Bucky could head downstairs.

When they got down to the hall, no one was around and the door to the sitting room had been pointedly shut. Clint rolled his eyes at Bucky and they left the house, stepping out into the cold winter sunshine together. Clint reached out for Bucky’s hand and gave it a squeeze, feeling all the anxious tension of the last couple of days roll off him.

“You were right,” he said. “Fuck those guys.”

“I think I’d prefer it if you fucked me,” said Bucky, and Clint grinned at him, then leaned in to kiss him, hoping that every single one of Linda and Hank’s neighbours saw them.

“Motel,” said Bucky once they’d parted. “C’mon, I want to start a new Christmas tradition with you.”

“And then we can watch _Die Hard_ ,” Clint added as they headed towards Bucky’s bike. “Because it is absolutely a Christmas movie.”

Why the hell had he thought he needed anything else? All he wanted for Christmas was to cuddle up with Bucky in front of a movie.

“Exactly,” said Bucky, and his grin was so bright that Clint had to kiss him again. Oh yeah, this sounded like much more his kind of holiday than anything Linda’s family had offered.


End file.
